Day 43

Exodus 35–36 | Romans 7 | Psalm 19

“For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Romans 7:15)

I left therapy today frustrated.

For weeks, I’ve been pushing through the pain, doing the exercises, following every instruction—hoping, praying for improvement.

But the middle finger still won’t move. And I still can’t feel it. The swelling is worse today than it has been in weeks. The scar tissue keeps thickening, making the finger feel hard to the touch—not to mention immovable. When my therapist tries to bend it, there’s an unnatural pop, like something is caught. The circulation is still poor, so it turns blue and cold. There’s still a stubborn patch of skin graft that refuses to heal.

I knew recovery would be long. I knew setbacks were possible. But this? This feels like my body betraying me. I want my hand to heal. I want my fingers to move. I want things to be like they were before.

But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I fight for progress, my body doesn’t cooperate.

And when I read Romans 7 today, I realized—I’ve felt this frustration before. Not just in my hand, but in my heart.

“For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Romans 7:15)

Paul was talking about the war within himself. The battle between the desire to live righteously and the reality of still falling into sin.

I get that.

I want to be patient, but I snap at my wife and daughter when I’m tired.

I want to fully surrender to God, but I keep wrestling for control.

I want to be content, but I still grumble about what I’ve lost.

I want to walk in joy, but I let frustration run me ragged.

Every day, I feel this war—the desire to honor Christ colliding with my own stubborn sin nature.

Paul felt it too.

“Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24)

This is where legalism collapses. No matter how much I try to be better, to do better, I fall short. No amount of therapy will heal my hand overnight—just like no amount of self-discipline can heal my sinful heart.

But Romans 8:1 is coming in tomorrow’s reading and it gives the final word:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

That’s the hope.

Not that I will one day muster up the strength to overcome sin on my own. But that Jesus already has.

Not that my effort will be enough. But that His grace is.

Not that I will one day make myself righteous. But that I already stand righteous in Him.

And so today, I will keep showing up to therapy, even when I don’t see results. I will keep stretching my fingers, even when it hurts. I will keep believing that healing is happening, even when I can’t feel it.

And I will do the same with my faith.

I will keep repenting, even when I fail.

I will keep trusting, even when I stumble.

I will keep running to Jesus, even when I feel unworthy.

Because whether it’s my fingers or my soul, healing doesn’t happen by my effort. It happens by His grace.

And grace will finish what it started.

Lord, I feel the war within me—the longing to do what is right and the struggle against my own sin. Thank You that my hope isn’t in my own ability to fix myself, but in Christ, who has already won the victory for me. Keep me faithful in this fight. Keep me near to You. And keep working on my hand and my heart, even when I don’t see the progress. Amen.